Is Mos Nunquam Existo
by Gilmore-007
Summary: AU. Lit. "Her throat burns as she struggles to hold in the vomit that's climbing up from her stomach as she mumbles that her name is Rory Gilmore and that she's an alcoholic."
1. Quis Venio?

A/N: So, anyways, I'm kinda sorta in the middle of another story right now, but this idea was screaming to be written down

**A/N: So, anyways, I'm kinda sorta in the middle of another story right now, but this idea was screaming to be written down. I dunno, I was studying for my algebra final (ironically) and all I was focusing on was this fanfic. The AA meeting, why she was there, why he was there, where it was, everyone's reaction, who knew, when does it take place, ect. Ultimately, I have no chance in hell for my final unless this is put out into our spammed internet universe for the general public to critique. **

**Disclaimer: We can always wish, can't we?**

The whole room smells like sweat, old McDonald's cheeseburgers and stale alcohol.

Rory Gilmore sits on the diner-style vinyl and metal chair whose plastic was slashed, letting a generous amount of fluff-ish resembling stuff to hang out. Of course, she herself does not notice the condition of the seat nor the nose-wrinkling odors, seeing as she's concentrating a whole lot of energy on biting on her lower lip in a vain effort to make everything disappear.

There are seven chairs in something that resembles a circle, a person sitting on every single one. There's the lady with dark blonde hair who is fumbling with a cigarette lighter despite the crooked sign on the cracked glass panel door that requests that she not smoke, the waif of a kid gorging on a fast food item in a greasy yellow wrapper and the obese man with the coffee stained shirt who is wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, yet at the same time trying not to stare the waif of a kid.

They're the drunks.

Yet, naturally, there are also the people like Rory in attendance.

There's the man with the comb over and the Rolex, constantly checking the time and drumming his manicured fingers one the knee of his Armani suit pants, the young brunette bouncing a kid on one knee as she texts somebody on her cell phone and the bottle-blond, disgusted housewife who is squeezing a dollop of hand sanitizer onto her hand, the expression on her face something in strange resemblance to a six year old girl who has a dead ant waved in her face by the school bully.

They're the alcoholics.

When the door with the sign that says "Please Do Not Smoke" is shoved open by a harried looking man with dark hair that needs a trim, Rory doesn't notice. The man rushes over to the brunette with the phone (who now looks relived), hugs her, kisses her forehead, tells her that he's sorry, and picks up the toddler. He also adds an eighth chair to the circle.

Rory doesn't notice any of this because she's staring that the light pink and green linoleum tiled floor; everything wasn't disappearing like it was supposed to.

**--**

The attendees are scooting their chairs backwards, causing a hollow sound to echo throughout the basement of the church. The basement also doubles as a soup kitchen between the hours of one and seven p.m.

A ninth chair is brought forward by a woman with bad teeth, frizzy gray hair and a clipboard. She's the only one in the room, besides the toddler, who has a smile on her face.

She announces that her name is Maria and requests that everybody in the circle say their title and 'admit to what they are.' Rory notices that the young man-- whom she just realized was in the room --was not exempt from this preliminary exercise. She thinks he looks relatively familiar, but her brain is throbbing so bad from her sudden alcohol induced migraine. She can't quite place him.

The man with the stained t-shirt's name is Joe. Joe is doesn't know what he his until Maria decides for him. Cheeseburger Boy's name is Luther and he's twenty years old...he forgot what he was.

The man with the Rolex's name is Alexander Price IV and he is 'fucking irritated'. The brunette says that her momma named her Amanda Lynn (but everybody can call her Mandy) and that she's an alcoholic.

Maria gives Mandy a pack of gum.

Rory feels her sweaty hands start to stick to the rough fabric of her jeans when Betty says that she needs a new box of cigarettes. The stench of burning tobacco in a paper roll makes her headache worse and the back of her eyes start to pound. Her throat burns as she struggles to hold in the vomit that's climbing up from her stomach as she mumbles that her names is Rory Gilmore and that she's an alcoholic.

--

Jess Mariano stands in a second hand bookstore, a tattered copy of _Oliver Twist_ held between his hands. He flips idly through the pages, not expecting much but suddenly, his own hand writing jumps out of the margins, staring him in the face. _No..._he thinks, staring at the words; the familiar crunch of his teenager self's text.

_Who...?_ He wonders, confused. Jess knows it can't be his book, seeing as he has this particular installment of Charles Dickens' writing sitting on his shelf in his apartment. _It can't be. No, there's no way. She wouldn't. She would _never.

Even though he is now positive that he knows whose property this is, Jess turns back the front cover, seeing Rory Gilmore's name written neatly in the corner.

A pure act of impulse, he walks to the front counter and pays for the book, the whole time mulling through the files of his brain, completely lost to the reason why Rory would be brought to discard one of her books. Sighing, he runs his hand through his hair and exits the establishment, her book tucked in the back pocket of his jeans.

In the front of _Bailey's Already Read Novels_, there is a set-up and a rack of books, somewhat of a sample of what this Bailey character sells. Jess bends down, taking a one last look, thinking that he might find something—

_Shit._

"This is insanity..." he mumbles to himself, dumping out a huge box of books, short stories and novels on the sidewalk, people staring at him as they walk by. He checks all of the front covers, seeing Rory's name in their respectable corners. All of her favorite Russian authors are there, the classics she loves and the non-fiction yarns about the foreign countries that she wants to visit before the age of thirty, "What happened to you?" he asks himself, feeling his stomach lurch, "What made you do this?"

Jerking him out of his thoughts, his pocket vibrates; a text (most likely) from Mandy. Jess flips open his phone, irritated, and even more so when he finds out that she's springing one of her Alcoholics Anonymous meetings on him and wants him to pick up Jack.

Quickly, he places all of Rory's books back in the box, bursts back into the store and requests that the cashier holds them for him, that he'll be back later that afternoon.

--

He bounces Jack on his knee, waiting for the group advisor to arrive. Jess, more than anything in the world, wants to get back to the store.

"Hey," Mandy hisses at him, "you're going to give our kid friggin' shaken baby syndrome or some shit like that if you keep it up."

"Will you relax?"

"Jess, you're the one that needs to 'relax'," she mutters, turning back to her phone. Lord, she is pissy today.

He tries to calm down, but his mind keeps racing in a multitude of directions all streets ending at a dead end. He hasn't spoken to Rory since that day in Philly at his bookstore a little more than five years ago. Jess has no idea what she has done with her life or what paper she ended up working at; the calls from Luke stopped a few months ago. He's tried to call him himself or even visit, but the calls came un-answered and Jack is always shoved in his face during Jess's only spare time. When talking to his mother, he never gets a straight answer. Whenever the topic even comes close to Lorelai or Rory, Liz wanders around the subject and neatly avoids talking about them.

However, Jess is sitting in one of eight (nine, now, actually, a disgustingly cheerful lady just joined the group) chairs, taking no particular notice of the occupants. He doesn't care about them at all. He just wants to get out of there.

"Hello, everybody, I'm thrilled that all of you showed up!" the lady announces, causing several people to jump, "My name is Maria and we're going to start off this little shin-dig with an exercise." _Oh, God, _Jess groans to himself. "I would like all of you state your name and what you are." _What the hell is this? _The church basement has a constant something-is-rotting-in-here smell to it and is dingy and unpleasant to exist in. "We'll start off with you, sweetie," Maria says, pointing to Jess.

"Uh, no, no!" he says waving his hands, "I'm not a...um, an alcoholic."

She narrows her brow at him, "Then why are you here?"

"I have to baby-sit," He mumbles, pointing to Jack.

"Oh," clearly she is very perturbed at this, "Well, then, sir, what is your name and what are you?" she repeats this whole 'what are you' thing with a tad bit more gusto than necessary and turns to the fat man with the stained shirt.

"I'm Joe Cladwell...I—" he breaks off, dissolving into fits of laughter, "I-I dunno what I am, ter be honest, ma'am."

"Okay...you're an alcoholic, Joe, that's why you're here," she says sweetly, giving Jess a death glare at the same time. She looks at the greasy kid, "You, little boy, what's your name?"

"I'm twenty," he drawls, balling up his McDonald's wrapper, "Then name's Luther and," he grins, "I forgot what I am."

"Alright, then," Maria sighs, fed up already, "Who're you?" she points to the rich guy with the briefcase under his chair.

"Alexander Price IV and I'm fucking irritated."

"And you?"

"My momma named me Amanda Lynn," Mandy says, smiling, showing off her white teeth. Jess rolls his eyes. What a suck up, "But ya'll can me Mandy. I'm an alcoholic."

"Thank-you, Mandy," Maria says, and tosses her a pack of Big Red, "Congratulations," she mutters under her breath, definitely a huge mood swing from when she first walked into the room. She turns to the lady who is smoking, "Who're you?"

"Betty."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Nevermind..." she turns to the girl sitting next to her, "Who're you?"

Jess feels his whole body jolt when the girl looks up from the floor she was staring at. _I'm dreaming...I have to be fucking dreaming..._

She hasn't changed a bit. Although, however, her clothes don't scream "D.A.R affiliate!" anymore and she looks very pale. The kind of pale that makes people back away from you for fear of being hurled on. Her hands are grasping her knees so hard that he can see that her knuckles are white...

"My name," she squares her jaw even though her voice is shaking and looks at Maria square in the eye, "is Rory Gilmore and I'm," _No,_ Jess prays to himself, squeezing his eyes shut. _No, Rory don't say it. Please don't say it..._ "an alcoholic."

**A/N: TBC...**


	2. Is Est Mortuus

A/N: All of you rock my socks

**A/N: **_**All**_** of you rock my socks. The whole debacle in the beginning when my story disappeared and you guys couldn't review or whatever is FIXED (thank-you, God). I'm also totally jazzed that people are into this story so I'm probably looking at four or five chapters as of now. Fanfictioners are the ****best!**** Oh, yeah, if anybody is looking for a happy ending (talk about **_**Series of Unfortunate Events, **_**eh?) you might want to click out of this fic and read something more...happy. Like, I dunno, a good JavaJunkie to make you all warm and fuzzy inside. This **_**is not**_** a warm and fuzzy story. Just a warning :**

Everyone in the room echoes that it's nice to meet her.

Except one.

Rory keeps wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. A constant thought making camp on her brain preaches that if maybe she keeps at it, she'll disappear into the grimy floor.

Her headache only gets worse when Maria and the late guy with the dark hair start arguing.

--

_My name is Rory Gilmore and I'm an..._

Oh, Lord.

..._alcoholic._

Jess doesn't exactly know what he's doing as he hands Jack over to Mandy, who abruptly stops her texting, pissed.

"Hey, I'm doing something—"

"Maria, I need to speak with—"

"Jerk-off, I'm _speaking_ to—"

The group advisor calms them down by addressing the brunette, "Mandy, sweetie, in order for this thing to work, silence in the correct areas needs to be administered."

She rolls her eyes and goes back to her phone, "Sure, yeah, whatever."

"Please announce your name and title." Apparently, the attention is now in Jess's direction.

He simply blinks, not believing this woman, "Are you for real?" he growls. It is so ridiculous that Maria thinks that she can stop him from speaking to the girl he has been in _love_ with since he was seventeen. His ignorance also doesn't help matters much.

"His name," Jess suddenly hears her voice and it's like somebody takes a jumper cable and jabs him in the stomach with it, "is Jess Mariano."

--

Rory has absolutely no idea what to do. She didn't need to talk, she didn't want to. All rationality is screaming in her head; telling her to keep her goddamned mouth shut.

All the switches in her mind flicked in the 'on' position when he started to speak and showed his attitude, proving to her that she definitely knows this man.

Her hand immediately flies to her mouth and covers it, more to stifle the urge to hurl than to mask to shock of what she had said. Rory thinks that it's all over now and that she'll have to do something drastic to make it all to go away. She hadn't had the slightest inkling that it would be this bad...that it would hurt so much to make her old life disappear.

The next thing she knows, Jess has shoved away from Maria and is kneeling in front of her, his expression lost as he asks what happened to her.

And her books.

And her life.

Feeling her throat burn, Rory shoves past him, causing him to stumble back and she falls to her knees, ripping open the tossed McDonald's bad with fumbling fingers. She throws up, her puke mixing with the stale, salty French fries.

--

_"_There,_"_ he says simply, motioning towards Rory, thankful that she piped up and also thoroughly confused. Mandy drops her phone on the ground, causing the sound to reverberate throughout the basement.

"Jess, how the fuck does that drunk know you?" she asks, dumbfounded.

He whirls on her, "She is _not_ a drunk!" he roars, "And if she is, then what the hell are you?"

Mandy clamps her mouth shut, shocked and whisks Jack up into her arms, storming out of the room with Maria yelling protests at her back, "Make her come back!" she yells, frustrated, at Jess.

Scoffing, he says, "I'm glad she's gone," not realizing that he was saying those harsh words until they were out of his mouth

She stares, gaping.

Jess takes the opportunity and walks over to Rory on weak legs, slowly crouching down in front of her. He hesitantly lays a shaky hand on her familiar shoulder, "What happened to you?" he whispers, not finding the strength in his voice to speak louder, he is so damn nervous, "This isn't you, Rory!"

Her hand clamps over her mouth, mostly likely, her thinks, a realization that she has heard that line before.

"Huh?" he probes, leaning towards her, his jaw squared, staring into her bewildered eyes, "Your books. I found them today. Why'd you get rid of your _books_?"

She bits her lip, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Do you know where you are?" She doesn't answer. "You're at an AA meeting, for Chrissakes!"

That's when she violently pushes him back, startling him. Jess regains his footing and stands up, watching as Rory rushes over to Luther's fast food bag, sinking to the floor.

"Rory!" he calls out, ignoring the stares of all the alcoholics around him, wondering what was going on. He runs over to her as she wipes her mouth with the heel of her hand and looks up at him, her blue eyes swimming with tears for the first time that day.

"T-they say it wasn't m-my," she chokes, kneeling pitifully on the floor, her hands threatening to push the sides of her head in, "f-fault. They said that there was n-nothing I could do..."

"Hey, you need to calm down, Rory," Jess gathers her weeping figuring into his arms, searching for the right thing to say. Her back is hot under his hands, her shirt sticking to her skin and he sits on the floor with her, "...it's okay," he mumbles.

She only sobs harder at this, and he can feel her tears start to soak the cotton fabric of his sweatshirt already, "No, it's not..." It's almost as if her body is collapsing under his touch, "It's n-not."

"Wha...?" he can't muster the energy to complete his question.

Rory pulls herself away from him, streaks running down her cheeks, her mascara smudged up a bit, "Everything's falling apart." Her crying has died down and her voice is low and scratchy, "L-Luke can't get up in the morning..."

Jess is startled, "Luke? Is he sick? Is he alri--?"

"I came home early from the campaign trail and stuff had changed."

"Rory, what are you talking about? What happened to Luke?" He begins to wonder if that's the reason why the calls stopped...why Liz skirted around the subject of him.

"I h-had to speak at the funeral..."

"Rory!' he hollers, frustrated at her closed up state, "Tell me what happened!"

She looks at him, her voice vacant and her eyes suddenly empty but still floating in saline water, "She's _dead_, Jess," she spits.

_No..._

"Lorelai is dead."

**TBC...**


	3. Vestigium, Signum, Nota, Macula

A/N: Man, I just gotta love you guys

**A/N: Man, I just gotta love you guys!! So far, positive feedback has been fantastic and I'm pleased with the general outcome of the story. As of now, I'm posting this chapter and later, the fourth and final one. Just a heads up...**

**Disclaimer: Mr. Czuchry would be nice...**

After the meeting, Rory and Jess sit on the gum-splattered cement steps of the church, the orange clouds just visible over top of the depilated New York City apartment buildings across the street. The last of the muggy air wraps around them, creating a false sense of comfort and a few gray pigeons perch on the telephone wires above, making the electrical cords threaten to sag in the middle.

The neighborhood that they're in may not be the richest, but children can play on the rusted swing sets without parents worrying about rapists or drive-by shootings; Rory can offer a slight smile to the bicyclist brushing by with take out boxes of Chinese food resting in the front wire basket fastened to the handle bars.

Her eyes are still red and puffy from her near breakdown during the AA meeting, yet she still bottles up great load of feelings and crams them to the back of her conscience in a knowing vain effort. Jess had always found a way to figure her out; it was just the way he was around her. However, is he still the same person? If so, why is she trying to hide everything? The gathering was let out early by Maria, mainly because she knew that people weren't exactly in the cooperating mood but also due to the fact Jess led Rory out the door before she had anything to say about it.

When he gets up off the steps, he brushes off his jeans and tells her that she has to go to the bookstore with him, she lashes out and starts crying and swearing at the man that she used to love, calling him an asshole and asking why he wasn't there when she needed him. She only gets angrier as Jess just stands there, letting her hit him. Rory dissolves into a sobbing heap when he saves her by grabbing her wrist and pulling her rather violently into the hard, warm wall of his chest after she sees the trail of blood running down his chin from the corner of his lip. His fingers tangle themselves in her hair and Rory's hands grasp the fabric of the shirt on his back, twisting it in her desperate hold.

He whispers that he's sorry, despite the fact that none of it is his fault.

--

The familiar _click-click-click _rings in Jess's ears as a bicycle peddles by with enough Chinese food to feed a small army and the rider smiles good-naturedly at them, "Evenin'," he says with a Southern accent.

"Hey," Rory returns, a sad smile on her face. Jess feels his skin prickle when she does this, the glow of the setting sun dancing off her hair. Even though she herself is royally fucked up, she finds a way to be gracious to others. That's one of the things that always drew him to her.

He notices the silence start to drag on, so he decides to do something about it, "I'm going back to the bookstore."

Jess isn't opaque to the fact that she pretends to ignore him and looks down at her fingernails, mumbling something about re-painting them.

"Rory."

"_No," _she says solidly, firm in her belief as she looks up at him, a thundercloud in her eyes.

Not even bothering to ask why, he stands up, a crick in his back from sitting on the cement steps for so long. He holds out his hand to her, "Let's go."

She shakes her head, "I don't want to."

"C'mon, you just can't care for something that much and then leave it behind like that."

He's shocked by the speed of how she gets off the stairs, but not the reality of the force of her arms shoving him back, "Yeah, Jess, isn't that just a fuckin' _riot_?" He can hear the strain in her voice as she says this, "My dad left me behind when I was _born_—"

"Well, he didn't—"

"_You_ left me twice without saying even a sucky 'good-bye,' you asshole!" Rory growls, jabbing him in the chest with her index finger. He takes jots down a mental note that hypocrisy isn't exactly his strong point, "And now my _mom!_"

"Knowing her," he says softly, "She didn't have a decision in the matter." He tries laying a hand on her shoulder but she steps back from him.

That's when she hits him, her hand clenched in a fist that drives in a manic attempt at his chest, "She had a motherfucking choice!" she roars, tears steaming down her cheeks as she continues to pummel him, her nails leaving scratches on his arms. People look out their windows, wondering what all of the commotion is all about, _"_Why weren't you there, Jess?!"Rory yells, furious, when he doesn't answer her, "I had to do it _by_," she shoves him back, "_my—"_

Suddenly, he reaches forward, fiercely grabs her wrist and jerks her towards him, her burning and crying body colliding with his. Jess feels her chest heave and her lungs choke out as those same hands he held all those years ago clutch and seize the material of his shirt. Without the slightest restraint, his strong arms wrap around her back, causing her polo ride up and her searing skin to touch his calloused fingers, "I'm sorry..." he mumbles into her neck, "I had no idea..."

Breaking their embrace, Rory steps back, the faintest of all smiles on her face, "You've finally got it, Jess," she says, nodding, "That's just it...you've never had any idea at all, have you?"

His eyes looks down at his hands before putting them in his pockets, "I'll be in the bookstore for the next few hours," he says, his voice a low grumble in his throat, "You know which one."

The two of them walk off in their separate directions, but the same in the disappointment of themselves.

--

Jess pulls out his phone and hits a speed dial number which automatically dials his fiancé. He doesn't get a response after six rings, leaves a voicemail and lets out a deep breath. _What am I doing?_ he asks himself repeatedly, not having the foggiest idea of what type of mess he's gotten his stupid ass into. Again, he calls Mandy. No answer. He shoves his phone in his jacket pocket, not in the mood to toddle about and act like a school boy.

Suddenly--

"Jess."

He fights the urge to smile, "Hey," he says, getting up off the ground. Rory Gilmore appears around the corner of a stack of her own books, her hand reaching out to the cover to the topmost one, her fingers leaving a trail through the veil of dust.

She glances at the blood drying on his lip, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he shakes his head then repeats it. "Don't be."

In an act the complete opposite of what he just did, she sits down on the concrete floor, her back resting against an old bookcase and her legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles, "We need to talk."

"Not necessarily. I mean, we could just read or grab a bite or something," he shrugs.

Rory makes eye contact, "I want to." She then makes a face, "More like I need to, I suppose."

He moves box of books, making room next to her. He sits down, one leg bent at the knee, the other straight. Like always. "Shoot," he says.

"At the beginning," she mumbles, making a poor attempt a humor, "is a good place to start, huh?"

"Usually," Jess smiles.

"Um..." she wrinkles her brow, "Five... (no, six?) years ago we..."

"Yeah."

"The next June, Logan proposed."

His smile falls and he spits back, "Yeah, well, I'm engaged."

Complete and total silence.

"I figured," she mutters, her blue eyes glancing towards him. She runs her fingers through her hair and places a book on her lap, reading the summary on the inside flap, "The brunette. The kid."

"His name's Jack," he says softly.

She shrugs, "Not a bad looking kid, either."

"So...you're married, huh?" Jess asks this while staring down at his hands instead of looking at her.

Her book falls closed.

"What?" he asks harshly, "Divorced already?"

"I said no."

"...oh."

"Surprised? Shocked, maybe?" she asks flatly, placing her books back in their respective piles and shouldering her purse.

"Where are you--?"

"I gotta go."

"Go? Go where?" he wonders out loud, his voice straining as he follows her out of the store.

She whirls back on him, "Away from you."

"Why?"

"I dunno, Jess," she scowls, "For my health, I suppose."

"Rory, don't be ridiculous..." he sighs, reaching up to pull down her hand when she signals for a taxi.

"You're the one whose being ridiculous," is her growled response as she tries to pull her hand out of his grasp, "You gonna let go of me, Mr. I-have-a-fuckin'-fiancé?"

He shakes his head, "Christ, you've changed, huh?"

"Yeah and you haven't."

Jess holds her hand tighter, "I don't want to let go."

"Please," she says, her eyes starting to water, "Come on, Jess."

Even though he's shocked by her change in attitude, he asks, "Why? Why do I have to let go of you?"

"Because..."

"Because why?"

"Just because, okay?" she chokes, ripping away from him.

He's fed up to his eyeballs with all of the drama, with all of the decisions he's had to make extemporaneously in past day, with his situation with Mandy. Jess reaches out for her elbow before she steps out into the street and before she has any time to react rationally, he kisses her.

Hard.

--

She refuses and pushes back against him, only causing her to step back, her shoulders touching the cold metal of the door of the taxi, "You," she manages to gasp when Jess pauses to pull her away from the cab door to open it, "Engaged..."

"The closest motel," is his response, directed towards the cabbie as he shoves a twenty through the window.

_Christ, this is so fucking wrong..._ she thinks to herself, trying to get her normal breathing pattern back. _Hell, kid, you did it with Dean when he was married._

_But..._

_But..._

_But what?_

_There's nobody to walk in on us this time._

_Damn straight._

They're sitting on opposite sides of the car, literally staring at each other, "Jess," she says.

"...yeah?"

"What're we doing?"

"I dunno."

He smiles.

She looks down at her hands.

--

The sheets smell like Bounce and quickly get tangled, their touches quick and unsure, their breath filling each other's lungs.

Cheap bedsprings creak, her hand white knuckling the headboard, his clutching the edge of the mattress. Their other hands are entwined together, stuck between their sticky bodies. He doesn't really give a shit that her knuckles are digging into his stomach and are going to leave an angry red mark for Mandy to see.

He doesn't care at all.

She tells him to bite her shoulder, that it feels good, that she wants to feel the pain and make it all go away. Another mark.

Names are exchanged in gasps, her hand forgets about the headboard and finds his back, her nails unconsciously dragging down the length of it. They leave the third mark in thirty seconds.

It's right.

It's sinful.

It's over.

--

Jess's eyes snap open, the cool wind from the open window waking him up. It feels like a dream...the whole entire thing. He rolls over, nearly crushing Mandy in the process, his muscles aching.

He'd left after Rory fell asleep.

Just like she said he would.

Again.

**A/N: Ahhh!! Sorry that took so long! I know you guys were dying for another chapter, haha.**


	4. Terminus

A/N: How long's it been

**A/N: How long's it been? Like a month? Sorry... Aha, yes, so this is the last chapter in my epic, depressing fanfic. Angsty.**

**Disclaimer: Wowza. Owning Gilmore Girls... Pfft.**

_"Jess."_

_"Mmm?"_

_"What're you doing here?"_

_"I-I dunno."_

_"Jess."_

_"What?"_

_"I'm sorry."_

--

Jess Mariano has done absolutely nothing constructive with his life for the past four weeks. He gets up in the morning, kisses his fiancé, drinks his coffee—

(Coffee.)

--takes a shower, stares at a blank computer screen and then goes to bed. When he wakes, he does it all over again.

However, today is an exception.

Jack, Jess's son, is sitting on his lap, a dog eared picture book opened up to the faded pages. Jess clears his throat, making the little bundle of joy giggle and hiccup. "Halitosis..." he starts.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"What's a hastitoefus?"

Not able to hide the smile, Jess looks up from Jack and glances around the park, the gorgeous, deep blue sky grinning down at them, shining brightly behind the collection of trees foliating. It's one of those crisp October days where you can just lay in the grass and look up at the red and orange leaves, knowing that no matter what happens, or how long it takes, another perfect—

(Perfect.)

--day will eventually come along.

"Halitosis is a dog in the story," Jess explains, pointing to the colored pictures, "who has really bad breath."

His son shouts, "Like me!"

They're waiting for Mandy to come out of her Alcoholic Anonymous meeting. Jess can't go to them or even look at the church anymore. A couple days after his night with Rory, there was another meeting. Naturally, she didn't show up. He knew damn straight that she wouldn't. She doesn't click that way. Vainly, he kept attending them, but now it hurts to go in and know that she was there and won't be coming back. So, when Mandy has a meeting, he and Jack sit outside in the park, read a few books from the library, take a walk, and usually get some ice cream.

Jess has tried the book store, too. Nobody has touched her books. When he started to notice a film of dust collecting on the top of them, he bought them all. Every single one of them. It cost him close to a thousand dollars that he didn't have. He kept going back each night or whenever he approached a block in his story, which, then, was close to all of the time.

Zipping up Jack's jacket, Jess says, "Exactly..."

For the hundredth time that month, his wishes that he woke her up to tell her that he was leaving, the he had to go. It wasn't right to just leave her like that. Of course, they both knew it was a one night stand—

(She's Rory. She knew. She knows everything, it's—_she didn't know._)

When he squeezes his eyes shut, sometimes he can imagine her hand in his as they walk trough Stars Hollow...when she just kissed him point blank at Sookie's wedding...when she reached sideways to hug him when he told her that he looked up how far away Yale was...when she pushed him away in Kyle's room...when he enlightened her to the fact that he loved her and she just walked away.

The memories are fading now. He can recall her voice and feel, but doesn't remember what street they were walking on.

Jack tugs on his sleeve. "Can we go for a walk?"

"Yeah, sure." His little hand fits itself inside of Jess's big one. "Don't let go..." he whispers to himself as he watches his son awkwardly tuck the picture book under his arm, completely opaque to his father's words.

--

"What're you doing?" Mandy asks, walking out into their apartment parking lot, clad in only a bath robe.

Jess hefts the last box into the back of his truck. "I have somewhere to go."

Her brows narrow. "With all of those books?"

"There's no room here, hon."

"Yeah, but...where'd they all come from?"

"The store."

"Don't be a smartass, Jess...you know, I'm still pissed that you flipped at front of me in front of all those people." She picks up a book. "Just for some ex who's hitting the booze a little hard."

He sucks in his breath. "Don't touch that," he snaps.

"Relax..."

"Just...don't—I, I've got to go."

Mandy crosses her arms. "When'll you be back?"

"In a few hours."

She sighs. "Whatever..." She walks back inside, gathering Jack up in her arms to bring him back inside, the book left on the tailgate.

Howl.

Jess's eyes start to burn. He blinks, but they only burn more. His throat aches as he stuffs the book in the back pocket of his jeans, figuring he'd keep that one.

--

The town looks the same as when he left it almost six years ago. Naturally, another ceramic plate store was added, but that's just about it. Doose's Market still has the biggest sign and practically slams you in the face when you drive into the Hollow, the center of town coming up quick. Miss Patty's is still in an old barn and the gazebo will always have pumpkins surrounding it in the fall.

Jess pulls the truck up to Luke's Diner, the **open** plaque still the same one that Jess himself flipped back over daily. He gets out of the vehicle, dozens of boxes stacked in the back with Rory's books. The nosy townspeople press themselves against the glass, Kirk's easily detected. Kirk. He'll never leave this place. The bell clangs as he opens the door, the occupants of the diner instantly stopping their conversations.

He walks up to the counter, the man with the backwards blue baseball cap and plaid shirt turns around from the toaster.

"Jess." Luke's voice is empty.

"Mmm?"

The whole diner listens. "What're you doing here?"

He fidgets with the edge of the plastic covered seat. "I-I dunno," he stumbles.

"Jess," the other man repeats.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." Luke's eyes are red around the edges and he walks behind the curtain, motioning for Jess to follow him.

"I want to know what happened," Jess says, sitting on a packing box, his hands in his pockets. Luke stays standing.

"Do you—I don't want to talk about it."

He sighs. "I was in New York. Guess who else was there."

"Three million other people?"

"Rory was there, Luke." Jess stares into his vacant face. "I met Rory at an AA meeting."

His expression collapses. "They were my responsibility..." he mumbles, looking at the ground. "I was to look after them and make sure that nothing happened to them."

"It's—"

"Lorelai is dead."

Jess looks down. "I know."

"I-it was dark..." Luke finally sits down, the bare light bulb above them hanging alone. Jess pays attention, park of him wanting to know what happened, part of him screaming for Luke to stop. "It was raining. We were on our way back from Friday night dinner." They still go to those. "Lorelai, Rory and myself."

"You don't have to..."

"We'd had a few drinks..."

"Luke—"

"I hit a tree." He bits his bottom lip. "Rory and I got the least of it, b-but she was trying so hard to save her, to stop the bleeding—"

"Don't. I don't want—"

"I was stuck under the steering wheel and Rory was screaming for her to hold on, that the ambulance was coming and they'd move the t-tree." Tears a streaming down his face, but he doesn't wipe them away. "Lorelai could barely speak. She wanted t-to...she wanted t-t—" He lets in a shaky breath. "To g-go. It hurt too much."

Jess leaped up from the box. "Stop!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "Please stop...please."

"We could only watch. There was nothing we could do." He puts his head in his hands. "S-she fell apart. Rory fell apart at the fu—funeral."

"_Luke_." He looks up. "Stop."

"Lorelai was my rock. Rory's, too. Everybody's..." Jess puts his hand on Luke's shoulder. "Rory came by last week."

_"What?"_ he splutters.

"She says it's on the kitchen table..." He hands Jess his keys.

--

The Gilmore household.

Jess sucks in a deep breath and steps onto the front porch, knowing that Lorelai was doing the same exact thing not five months ago. She won't be coming back. Ever. Rory just sat there, drinking, thinking, and remembering. She wanted to let go, so she left everything that reminded her of Stars Hollow; the people, the places, the books. Acceptance was all she's really looking for to make the world turn again. However, he, Jess, had to make her start the whole painful journey all over again.

He feels sick as he slides the key into the lock, the fresh and aired smell meeting him when the door swings open. It all looks so normal. There are magazines stacked on the coffee table, flowers in the vase in the foyer. Granted, they're dead. But still. It only looks as if the Gilmores had taken a vacation for the summer and hadn't requested a house sitter. He knows that, legally, the house belongs to Luke. Jess also knows, emotionally, he let his father's construction project sit in a shed for fifteen years.

But that was a boat and his dad.

Not a house and love of his life.

He disregards the living room, doesn't even dare to go upstairs, but, instead, heads into the kitchen. There it is. On the table.

An envelope.

Jess opens it.

_Dear Jess,_

He swallows, a lump the size of Las Vegas lodged in his throat.

_Lorelai died in a car crash. I assume you know this already, seeing as Luke gave you the keys to the house. I feel terrible leaving him like that, but I just can't, you know? I don't know, maybe he and I should sit down some time and just...let it all out. It really gets me about how he thinks it's all his fault. When you see him, tell him that that's ludicrous. It's my fault. I could have helped or saved her. All I did was sit there like I didn't care. Like someone who didn't give a shit. He was stuck. I suppose that part of me believed that she couldn't die. Lorelai Gilmore. Invincible._

In the middle of the word, Jess sees a water stain blotting the ink. More like a tear stain.

_The funeral was terrible. I cried in the ambulance, holding her hand, thinking that she'd come back, I cried in the hospital, I cried when the doctor announced that she was dead, I bawled for like a week straight. I cried at the meeting when I tried to tell you. I couldn't even get it out. I'm sorry, Jess._

_Honestly, I don't know why I'm telling you this. You're my ex-boyfriend, somebody of the past. I guess you're different than the others. Somehow, I think you'll understand that I'm a wreck. I need to go somewhere and just cool off._

He bites his bottom lip, her penned words starting to blur.

_I started drinking partially because I wanted to forget, mostly because I wanted to remember. There is no list of all of the movies we mocked, the television shows we watched religiously or the boxes of Chinese food we've eaten on the couch in our pajamas. That's unrealistic. Nobody would live long enough to write all of that down or type it up. She's the one person in my life that I could always count and depend on. Not anymore. I'm just sort of floating._

_Now, here's the part where you come in._

Blinking, Jess tried to make the words focus.

_Frankly, I had sex with you because you were there. If it was a random stranger whom I'd just met on the street, most likely we'd have done it, too._

What?

_I mean, it was great, don't get me wrong, but I needed an outlet. Something besides booze to make me forget. It was a spur of a moment thing and in a way, I used you, but in a way I didn't. You're the guy that I can connect the most with and, I don't know, I must've got lost...somewhere down the line. I told you that you weren't there when I needed you, but that's not a fair thing to say. I'll always need you. And I know, that in some way, you'll always need me._

Reading this, he realized that that's the reason he had sex with her, too. To make the blur of his life go away—if only for a moment.

_I might meet up with you again in a decade or two, we may cross paths once again...it's just fated. I know your son will grow up to do great things in the world, and will change it for the better. Feelings sometimes evolve into new things, huh? _

_So, Jess, I thank you for being you and letting me be me. We are both aware of the fact that you're engaged to be married; you have a child and are practically granted to have more. I wish you the best of luck. No matter what happens, we'll never get it together. It's not in the cards. _

_It will never be._

_Love, Rory._

_P.S. Make sure my books find a good home._

Jess folds up the letter, knowing that this is going to be the last words of hers that he'd ever read. On shaky legs, he walks out of the house, the envelope safe inside his jacket.

The last of the fall foliage falls from the trees, the final moments of that beautiful blue sky looking down at him. The Jeep is still parked in the driveway underneath that tree, covered in orange and red. He walks over to his truck and, one by one, starts hauling the boxes of books into the house. His back aches but to him it feels good, knowing that Rory's books are going right back to where they belong.

To wait for her.

And so will Jess, no matter that his eyes won't ever gaze into her blue ones again.

Rory Gilmore's parting words ring in his head: _It will never be._

**Fin.**


End file.
